Page 13 of Redemption
Between the virus, the rise of the undead horde, the influx of hostile survivors, and the hundreds of miles separating New York and North Carolina, I still can’t believe she’s standing right there, not five feet from me. Alive and, by the looks of it, healthy. She looks good. Great, even...
Reallygreat, actually.
Holding her in that garden, her body pressed close to mine, she enveloped my senses and turned my entire world upside down. Her soft skin, the smell of her hair, the cadence of her heartbeat as it matched my own. The truth was undeniable, each trait distinctly hers. I knew without a shadow of a doubt it was Alessandra.
Mi Alma.
Having her in my arms once again was all I’ve ever wanted, all I could have ever hoped for, and it took every single ounce of willpower within me to loosen my hold—to surrender my overwhelming desire to keep her close—and, instead, give her the freedom she rightfully deserves, all in the hope that she didn’t run away or vanish like the ghost I had thought she turned into.
Fuck...
How is this even possible? After what I saw on base— the horrors we all endured for months—there’s no fucking way. Not when I barely survived that shit. But, then again, here she is, alive and kicking, despite all the odds stacked against her.
Unfortunately, anything can happen, regardless of how well she’s evaded it for so long. Which means, as long as I havebreath in my lungs, I’m not about to let the laws of probability have another shot at her.
“If you think I’m about to turn a blind eye to your suicidal hero complex instead of making sure you leave here with your life, unscathed and unharmed, then yes, I agree with the assessment of your lack of mental acuity. You gotta realize that if you go looking for your friends, all the while knowing they’re most definitely surrounded by hostiles, you won’t be coming back out the same.” I move to stand over her, my larger body dominating her petite size. It was meant to be intimidating, meant to force her into an uncomfortable, fearsome place that would eventually lead her to changing her mind and leaving them like I originally hoped she would.
I should have known better.
Appalled and defiant at a whopping five feet three inches tall, she cranes her enraged expression to meet my gaze almost a foot higher than hers. Her hands lift to her hips, stance widening as if readying herself for a fight. The sudden transformation culminates with a head tilt and narrowed eyes that, surprisingly, make me take a step back. It’s a tiny bit of reluctant submission, but she notices and latches on with sharpened teeth.
“Excuse me? Of course, you should be the one to talk to me about leaving someone I care about. I seem to have forgotten that you’re the best at that particular concept.” She takes a threatening step forward, to which I command my feet to hold steady, to not back down, but ultimately, they cave to her withering stare, taking a half-step back as she proceeds to strike me down with her righteous fury. “You left me without a second look back at that airport and didn’t seem to give a damn about me at the time. So, who the hell cares what I do with my time or my life? It’s certainly not going to have anything to do with you.”
The words“I’m sorry”are poised on the tip of my tongue, ready to take the leap—as they have been for years, just waiting for this opportunity to apologize for making the worst decision in my life—but I stop, knowing a simple phrase would never be enough to earn her forgiveness.
Her vengeful gaze sweeps the length of me, traveling up and down with a sneer gracing her lips. It’s as if I can feel her stare burning my flesh as she takes her fill. “Especially not when you’re some domineering figment of my imagination come to infiltrate my mind and my plan to get my guys back. Absolutely not. I couldn’t trust you then, and I damn well can’t trust you today. Now, kindly... Fuck. Off!” She goes to move around me but I raise my hand, intending to wrap my arms around her waist and stop her from making a terribly impulsive and irrational decision, but she stops me before I make contact. “No! Get off me. You might be a ghost or some sort of poltergeist since I can feel you, but evenphantom-you doesn’t get to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you lost me!”
Growling her exasperation to the sky, she begins pacing, back and forth, muttering under her breath, while I stay rooted to the ground, stunned by her outburst.
I may not be dead, but I may as well be in her eyes. She’s completely moved on, content living her life the best she can with the circumstances as they are with a group of people she’s come to ally herself with.
I can’t say that it doesn’t hurt, because it does, but I’ll take the pain because, ultimately, I know I deserve it.
Years ago, her eyes were filled with wonder and excitement. An eagerness to start our lives together. A flame, blazing with infinite possibility. And then I carelessly snuffed it out in a single moment. It didn’t matter if I had convinced myselfit was for the best. That it was what she deserved. That fire between us is gone, never to be reignited.
But I see a bit of it now. The spark of an ember in her gaze, created, in my absence, by these same guys she’s trying to find.
All I ever wanted was for her to be happy. To smile. To enjoy everything life has to offer. I’d rather she run away from this place and never look back. To be free and have a chance at safety far away from these people and their agenda. But I see that spark flickering in her eyes, burning bright for...
Them...
I sigh, relentingly defeated. I’m helpless against her. Stuck between wanting to keep her safe and wanting to keep that spark glowing in the depths of her soul, even though I don’t have the right to any of that anymore. In her eyes, I’ve lost the privilege to anything and everything pertaining to her life. Even if it was done with the best of intentions, as of that day, I’m the bad guy.
Her steps falter, then she shakes her head, muttering something under her breath. Pausing a moment, she nods to herself. “Yeah... that’s true. It was definitely them. They were shady as fuck and confirmed it by saying that asshat’s name. Definitely worth a shot.” She stretches her arm out to the side as if pointing to something in the distance. “I can just follow the road back.” She bends down and picks up the gun she dropped earlier, placing it in her leg holster before shrugging casually and shouting, “Oh, fuck him and his horse he rode in on! Don’t forget, he’s the asshole here, which automatically makes him totally unreliable. Just think of him as a walking, talking potato. Absolutely of no use to anyone.”
Is she...? Is she talking about me?
She stops suddenly, tilting her head to the side with a confused look. “Hell no, I’m not listening to you!” She throws her arms up in the air. “Because, just like this fucknut,” she points at me with her thumb over her shoulder, “I can’t trust half the decisions you make.”
Oof... That hurts....
Her arms go out wide this time, smacking her thighs on the way back down. “Remember when we got kidnapped last year?! Terrible idea.” She pauses, shaking her head.
Now wait just a fucking second... Kidnapped?!
I put a pin in that little revelation to possibly bring up later since I don’t have time to ponder on that as she just continues on with her...argument. The thought is jarring and extremely unsettling, but I remind myself she’s here now, alive and seemingly well.... For the most part, anyways.... So I’ll worry about that bit of information another time when she’s comfortable talking about it and we have a free moment to work through it.
Content with that line of reasoning, my arms cross in front of my chest as I observe... whatever the hell is going on right now. I’ve heard of talking to yourself, hashing out options, but she’s... It’s like she’s having a complete conversation with herself.
